Six Reasons Not to Move
A new bar just opened down the street. By down the street I mean the on-foot travel time is about thirteen seconds. It was Coming Soon for weeks.
A new bar just opened down the street. By down the street I mean the on-foot travel time is about thirteen seconds. It was Coming Soon for weeks.
Even though I said last semester that I was going to cut all my extracurriculars to make time for some of my own projects, I didn’t actually manage to quit anything
Mumbling “what have I done” to myself in my closet-sized Queens apartment with my suitcase only half-unpacked on the floor is not exactly my proudest life moment.
It’s natural to want to fill your life. But in a life-long attempt to fill my soul with the “right” things, I have recently become fond of silence and stillness.
I arrived healthy, in decent financial standing, having not seen a couple of long lost friends in years. I left flu-ridden, in slightly worse financial standing, having visited a couple of long lost friends.
We unpack the McDonald’s breakfast we picked up on the drive from Brooklyn. My roommates used this as an effective bribe to get me out of bed at 5:45 a.m.
The kids at school refer to the local corner stores by their owners’ names, and I’m starting to think bodega owners are the true heroes of New York.
Chuck is, for O’Neill, an incarnation of New York itself: brash, quick-talking, big-dreaming, and under the surface, deeply flawed. Even his self-proclaimed motto sounds gimmicky.
I’m three days into the semester, and I’m dreading the day my academic load catches up with me and I can’t sit down and enjoy some crime at the end of the day.
In a world where we are not free to create and relax at will, we must discipline ourselves so that these dangerous and noble things can be a part of our lives.